


We Were Born Sick (You Heard Them Say it)

by amazingjemma



Series: Sinner and Saint [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Brave Jemma, F/M, Serial Killer!Fitz, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/pseuds/amazingjemma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma was a good girl, but she had sinned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Born Sick (You Heard Them Say it)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Take me to church" by Hozier. Beta-ed by amazing Rachel aka bobbimqrse here. Check out her Huntingbird fics!

They were on the run. Again.

 

They've been together for three months and Jemma still can’t get used to that. Cheap motels, blood stains and guns in the back of their car. _His_ car. Turning her head to the right, she glanced at him, studying his emotionless face.

 

She didn’t know what attracted her attention that night. Maybe it was his crystal clear blue eyes, or the stubble, or the way he moved. Dangerous but inviting gestures, and his smile. His voice was soothing and that was one of the factors, too. Jemma had never been popular, she had never been in relationships; but then he appeared. Jemma was a good girl, but she had sinned.

 

He noticed her curious look and smiled back with her favorite smile. At least, it wasn't that smile when he killed those who tried to harm his girlfriend.

 

"You okay?"

 

Jemma sighed and returned her attention on the road. Was she okay? She didn't know. She had mixed feelings.

 

"I'm fine."

 

"You are a surprisingly bad liar, Jemma Simmons."

 

His laugh was so beautiful. Jemma had never heard such a laugh before. Hell, she had never met a man like him, in general. Everything about Leo Fitz was perfect. And yet, dangerous.

 

"Well, maybe you should teach me how to lie?", she glanced at Fitz again.

 

"I will."

 

Fitz smiled and turned away, his face emotionless again. She wondered how he managed to be so still, whilst there were corpses in the trunk of his car. _Their_ car.

 

They were in the middle of the desert, where Fitz could hide dead bodies. Meanwhile, Jemma was studying the map, choosing the nearest motel.

 

"There is one", - she said, taking a pen and tracing the place on the map. "It's not as far as the others, about fifteen minutes."

 

Fitz muttered something, but Jemma couldn't recognize words, so she just smiled, waiting for him. She still couldn’t get used to that. Dead bodies, blood stains. At first she had cried a lot. Fitz tried to calm her down; she was afraid of him, she was in doubt; because she had always been a good girl, went to church every weekend, but now... but now she wasn’t. She knows he'll tear apart everyone who dares to touch the most precious person in his life. Her.  She is his most precious person. The only thing she got used to - it's his soothing voice and reassuring smile. He would never hurt her and she sees that in his eyes. And yet, there were a few times when she thought he could actually do that.

 

"What were you saying about a motel?"

 

Jemma shivered when she heard his voice but gave him the map, their hands touching. She still couldn't get used to that. Every brush, every second of skin-to-skin contact, and Jemma was melting, like a slice of cheese on a grill. She loved his skin. It was so warm, a little bit rough because of guns and other stuff he worked with, but she loved his skin.

 

While Fitz was studying the map, Jemma noticed blood on his jaw and moved closer, raising her hand.

 

"Hey, you have blood, let me...", - Jemma ran her cold fingers over his stubbled jaw and smiled, when she noticed the way he looked at her. It was nothing but a caring glance, the one he gave her when they were in bed, but something was hidden behind this glance. Obsession. Lust.  _Love_. She got used to that, luckily.

 

Fitz loved her hands. They were always cold, but soothing and gentle. He had never experienced this before. All women he had were rough, angry, bitchy. They wanted to fuck hard. They wanted dominance. Some of them tried to make Fitz softer. They couldn't understand him and his interests. Maybe that's what killed them. Their impatience. He had no regrets.

 

But Jemma Simmons was different. That's why he walked up to her in that bar. That's why he started a conversation. He knew she would understand him, that she would never want to change him and his lifestyle. This woman was as gentle as she was patient. She didn't try to fix him, to change him.

 

"Please, never shave", - he heard her perfect English accent and looked into her whiskey eyes.

 

"Doesn't it bother you?"

 

"Should it bother me?"

 

"Well, women don't like kissing men with stubble."

 

"I am not women. I am my own woman." Jemma rolled her eyes and turned away, a little bit offended. She didn't like when he was comparing her to women. She was an individual. She was his.

 

"You are amazing", - Fitz grinned. "I hope you know that."

 

"Well, there’s a man who constantly reminds me of it, so yeah."

 

Fitz loved Jemma's laugh. It was a little bit hoarse, but he liked it. It was his favorite sound after her moans.

_**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~** _

 The journey to the motel took twenty minutes. Changing his shirt, Fitz chose the farthest room, so people could not hear them and their talks. They were on the run, after all.

 

Right after they unpacked their things, Fitz disappeared in bathroom, leaving Jemma alone with her thoughts. She still couldn’t get used to the loneliness. She missed him even when he was in the next room, cleaning his body of blood. Blood was everywhere. The color was on his hands and no matter how hard he tried to clean it, it was still there. An invisible red color. Blood.

 

She didn't know how long she'd been staring out of the window, looking at empty streets and puddles. It'd been raining for two hours now. And Fitz was still in the bathroom. At least, she thought he was.

 

Fitz was staring at Jemma's back for thirty minutes, standing behind her, as he always did. His victims didn't know if he was there. He hits behind their back, and sometimes he faces them. He wants them to see who their killer was. Fitz didn't care about it, he got used to that. He got used to everything. Everything but this woman standing there and looking out of the window, possibly thinking about their future plans.

 

"Jem."

 

Fitz shortened the distance and gently hugged her from behind, placing his chin on her shoulder. Jemma hummed and leaned into him, breathing in the fresh mint scent of his shower gel.

 

"You okay?"

 

"I'm fine."

 

"You are not."

 

Fitz knew she was still in shock. But he couldn't let these assholes live, not after they touched Jemma. As a result, they didn't have fingers anymore, and not just fingers. They were dead.

 

"Can you make tea?"

 

Nodding his head, Fitz gently ran his rough hands over Jemma's flat stomach and left a kiss on her neck, whispering sweet words. Watching Fitz go to the kitchen area, Jemma wondered if this was what she wants. She still couldn't get used to loving a serial killer. But with her, he was so sweet, and protective, and gentle and she simply didn't care what he was doing. Still, she was afraid of him. The way he killed those guys was violent and cruel, and Jemma... she liked it. They had deserved it.

 

Moving onto the bed, she ran her hands over soft tissue and smiled to herself. He was soft with her. He wasn't dangerous to her. She was safe with him.

 

"Hey."

 

Jemma winced but then relaxed, taking a cup of tea out of his hands. "Thank you", she smiled and took a sip, placing the cup on the coffee table. Fitz laid on the bed, next to Jemma and took her hand, watching her with concern. She was afraid of him. He knew that. He could read it in her eyes that were filled with tears now.

 

"Hey... hey, come here."

 

Jemma took a deep breath and followed him, lying next to Fitz. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks and she was suffocating, but Fitz knew what to do. He moved closer and hugged her, running his fingers over her long hair. He knew it would calm her down and of course, he was right. After a few moments Jemma's howls subsided and she was now clinging to him, breathing in the familiar scent. _His_ scent.

 

"I'm so sorry, Fitz."

 

"Hey, what are you talking about, babygirl? You don't have to be sorry. You were not the one who did harm."

 

Shifting, Jemma stood up a little bit and sighed, looking down at their tangled hands.

 

"I know, it's just... You looked so dangerous and cruel and I... I was scared that what if I make you angry and..."

 

Fitz gasped. He knew now. She was afraid of him. Again.

 

"No. No no no, darling, never. Don't ever think about it." Leo took the same position as Jemma so he was now looking into her eyes, gently placing his hand on her hair. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I know you are. But trust me, I would never - ever - hurt you in any way. Jemma... it's never too late to leave, you know."

 

"But I don't want to", - Jemma whispered and moved even closer, their lips almost touching. "Fitz, I... I trust you. And that scares me the most. Can I really trust you? Can I open my soul wider, knowing that you won't hurt me?"

 

Fitz ran his finger over her full pink lips and smiled. She was scared. But she was so damn good at hiding it. She was so brave, and serene and Fitz realised that was the feeling he felt for all these months. It wasn't obsession. It wasn't lust. It was love. He _loved_ her but couldn't say that out loud because he was never loved in his life. He didn't know what love was until he found her. She was his salvation.

 

Fitz sighed and gently pushed her on the pillows, so he was on top.  He has always been gentle with her. She knew she could trust him. He was her sin and salvation and the same time. Forgive her father for she has sinned.

 

"Jemma, I..."

 

She knew what he wanted to say. She knew it before he even realized it. His long stares didn't lie, and she could read him easily now. Jemma smiled and touched his jawline, moving her fingers up and down his face.

 

"I know. You don't have to say anything." Jemma smiled and shortened the distance between them, gently kissing him. "I love you too."

 

Jemma knew how hard it was for him say it. She knew he had never been loved. Not by his parents, or friends, or women he had. That's why Jemma was so gentle to him. She wanted him to believe in something beautiful, something what would soften his sharpen edges. She loved him every moment of every day, even after seeing what he was capable of. She knew he loved her, too.

 

"I couldn't find the courage to tell you", - Fitz whispered, eyes closed. "So please. Let me show you."

 

In the dim light of their motel room she noticed how sparky his eyes were when he opened them. Deep blue sea, to be exact. She softly kissed his lips again, letting herself get lost in the feeling, whilst his hands tugged on her blouse, opening access to her always cold but smooth skin. There is no sweeter innocence than their gentle sin and that sin makes him feel real. She makes him feel right and important and human. She knows that. And she lets him show her.


End file.
